Too Many Scientists Spoil The Plot
by PurpleYin
Summary: McKay has a little accident in an Ancient lab, which leads to a very odd situation for Atlantis. After all one Rodney McKay is enough for anyone...McKayWeir and oddly enough another McKayWeir
1. Prologue: Ask and you shall receive

Authors Note: This hasn't been beta-read so I apologize if it has grammar/spelling errors in or if the characters sound a bit off. Please let me know what you think of this, complaints, suggestions; any feedback would be helpful as long as it is constructive.

This idea has been swimming around in my head for a while and I wanted to do something a bit more lighthearted than my other stories. Hope its ok.

Now proofread atleast!

Spoilers: For Season One episodes 1-14 probably.

Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to Stargate in any incarnations of course and I'm not making any money, this is just some harmless fanfic fun.

* * *

**Prologue: Ask and you shall recieve  
**

* * *

McKay sighed, scratching his head. Why couldn't he figure out what the blasted thing did? 

So far he'd spent five hours studying the newly discovered Atlantean lab under the supervision of Sheppard and Stackhouse. The two soldiers had wondered off for a little exploration, ready as backup should anything go wrong. It had been obvious that they were bored out of their puny little military minds and he'd waved them off in his frustrated huff. Ok, so it was unfair to call Sheppard puny mentally since he knew he hid some bizarre mathematical talent but Rodney was at a loss, close to pulling his hair out. And he wasn't one know for his patience at the best of times, which incidentally was not what he'd call now.

If only the Ancients had been better at leaving behind instruction manuals or at least buttons that said what they did in Ancient. Then it would just be a matter of translation instead of pushing and pulling levers randomly and swearing until you got stressed out enough that the mental component kicked in.

Sometimes he wished he was twice the man he really was. Everyone thought he was a genius, which he liked to perpetuate, but truthfully he didn't know what the hell he was dong half the time, something that had led him to envy such people as Sam Carter.

His stomach gave off an enormous growl and he clasped hands to his pockets absentmindedly, searching for a power bar.

No such luck. He was in dire need of food, having waited too long as it was. He moved toward the door about to radio in to Sheppard when his eagerness to escape toward food turned to a clumsiness, which caused him to stumble.

His head met something with a thunk and he swore loudly, which summoned the footsteps of the other two, clunking down the hall in a hurry.

His head swam and he thought a bright flash had gone off. He blinked feeling a little better and hoping the weird trick his eyes had played on him didn't signal a concussion.

One hand against the wall steadied himself and he put the other up to his head, feeling sick when it came back sticky with blood. Paying more attention he saw a trail of it from the ledge above console that he had dented his head on, some drops down onto the flat panel below.

He groaned, squinting at the figures who had arrived in the doorway.

When he looked back up Sheppard and Stackhouse were still standing there bemused expressions on their faces.

"Well don't bother checking on how I am. You only ran down all of E-section to get here."

No response.

"I'm fine, thanks for not asking"

He furrowed his eyebrows, decidedly confused and waved a hand across in their direction trying to catch their attention.

Come to think of it, Stackhouse's eyes were nearly bulging.

It was then that he noticed they were looking somewhere to the left and behind of him.

"McKay?" Sheppard asked incredulously, but not at him, to the same place their eyes were transfixed as there was an odd psssh sound of something hydraulic moving.

McKay turned around to see the chamber they had poked at earlier opening, meeting his own face there.

Rodney McKay just stared, mouth open wide gaping like a fish at an identical replicant of himself who stared back, pointing at him and asking "What the hell is going on? And who is he?"


	2. Chapter 1: 1 and 1 can make more than 2

Authors Note: This hasn't been beta-read so I apologize if it has grammar/spelling errors in or if the characters sound a bit off. Please let me know what you think of this, complaints, suggestions; any feedback would be helpful as long as it is constructive.

This idea has been swimming around in my head for a while and I wanted to do something a bit more lighthearted than my other stories. Hope its ok.

Spoilers: For Season One episodes 1-14 probably.

Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to Stargate in any incarnations of course and I'm not making any money, this is just some harmless fanfic fun.

* * *

**Chapter 1: One and one can make more than two**

* * *

Sheppard's head moved back and forth between the two. It was crazy, two McKay's?  
He did the only sensible thing there was and gathered them up, grabbing them both, one by each hand leading them like children.

"I think this calls for a trip to the infirmary, even if it's only to get Beckett to check my eyes out."  
The McKay's were too busy studying each other over his shoulders to make any kind of comment.  
Stack house followed, gun pointed suspiciously. "You're eyes are fine sir, I see both of them too."

Sheppard groaned, "I was kidding Stackhouse."  
He just knew this was going to be a long day.

* * *

Carson had dropped the clipboard he was holding when they'd walked into the infirmary and Sheppard had been worried he would faint from shock, his face had been so pale.

"Doc?" he snapped his fingers, pushing the two silent McKays towards the man.  
His first question in a thick Scottish accent of his confusion was "How?"  
"You tell me."

At that Carson had shuffled the patients plural through to the examination area, still doing a double take.  
Meanwhile Sheppard activated his comm, knowing this it was his job to inform a certain someone of whatever had happened. Oh joy.  
"Weir, come in. We have a situation you are going to want to know about."  
"What is it?" she asked, a strain evident.  
"It's..." pausing, unsure whether he could really phrase it correctly, "Rodney."  
"Is he hurt?"  
Sheppard noticed the fear in her voice and replied quickly, easing that off.  
"Nooo.... he's fine, perhaps more than fine you might say. This is hard to explain, just meet us in the infirmary."

* * *

By the time she'd arrived with Teyla and Ford, Beckett had almost finished, both of the McKays behind a screen away from sight.  
The three of them entered; Weir had her arms crossed, still evidently worried, with the other two straight behind her.  
"Whats going on?" she asked, peering over his shoulder anxiously at the three silhouettes behind the screen. 

He wasn't sure how to say it and twisted his mouth around, angling for the words when Beckett drew back the screen sharply exclaiming "There we go, all done."

Weir's eyebrows shot up and her mouth dropped open at the sight, with Teyla and Ford holding equally amused and confused looks on their now pale faces.

"Oh there you are. I think I can explain now." Beckett said smiling cheerfully.  
"There are two of him!" came the rather blank response from a shocked Ford.  
"How astute of you." relied one of the McKay's with a look of disdain.  
"Yes, we hadn't noticed that ourselves yet." finished the other, who nearly sneered the sentence.  
Somehow he didn't think they were taking it well.

"Please do." Elizabeth said.  
It was Beckett's turn to be confused once more. "What?"  
She elaborated, annoyed at having to and rather abnormally showing that. "Please do explain this."  
"Oh, yes, right.. of course. Both of these men" he swayed his arm toward the two figures " are Doctor Rodney McKay."

"Yeah but how?" asked Ford, exasperated that they'd made no progress other than establishing there were two of them.  
Beckett placed his hands on his hips, his strained mood firing up at Fords second bad choice of what to say.  
"Well I don't know how do ah. Only that both of them are genetically identical, except for the lack of ATA gene in one of them, making him for lack of a better word the clone."  
The one on the right seemed to bristle at the use of that particular term.

Another question came from Ford, the only one actually saying much about it all other than the McKay's.  
"How do we tell them apart?"  
"Well you can't aside from the lack of ATA in one and the big bump on the head the other has."

Sheppard wondered if it would cease to amaze the Lieutenant anytime soon. His questions nearly as bad as his talent for naming things. And he hoped to God that Ford wouldn't get round to naming the McKay's. He could just imagine the young mans voice piping 'Dr McKay 2! Wait up'. He had to think of something better before Ford got the idea.

Weirs eyes glanced down thoughtfully, the air tense.  
Sheppard thought the situation could do with a little injection of humour.  
"Looks like you got your very own Kirk moment McKay." he said smirking, then stopping to ponder and adding "....'s" for the fact there were more than one.

"Ha ha, very funny Major", both McKay's saying the same thing at same time, identical expressions of sarcastic wonder and then looking oddly across to each other clearly not happy.

"What do we do about this?"  
A further silly question from Ford which prompted an outburst from the cloned McKay.  
"What do you mean do about this? We're both me."  
"Well, speak for yourself, you haven't got a bruise the size of Antarctica on your head for one." retorted the first McKay.  
At that squabbling broke out between it seemed everyone but himself and Weir.

He thought the situation was hopeless until she spoke up.  
At her voice the McKay's both stopped stock still and Ford broke off his argument with Teyla on the implications of having two McKay's on base

"Everyone be quiet. This is perfectly simple. Carson, what do you recommend?"  
The doctor looked put on the spot for a second before coming into his element.  
"Well the clone, sorry to call ya that, is fit as a fiddle but I'll need to keep the other McKay here for observation for at least a few hours due to his head injury."

She looked around beaming at them, meeting everyones eyes and forcing weak smiles back in return  
"That's settled then. And I think after all this excitement I could do with lunch."  
She started off towards the door, the others exiting first.

* * *

McKay sat on the bed, whilst Carson began poking him, watching the other him jog up to Elizabeth  
"Mind if I join you for lunch Elizabeth?"  
"Of course not Rodney, it'd be a pleasure."  
She smiled a gorgeous smile up at the other him and Rodney felt jealous. The other guy had all the luck to escape uninjured. A second later his ears picked up her second sentence before she left his range of hearing.  
"I'm just glad you're ok." she said as she took the proffered arm of his clone.

He huffed, had she completely forgotten he wasn't all ok considering he was sitting on an infirmary bed about to be nearly tortured with Carson's overattentive administrations.  
He found himself already developing a dislike for the 'other' him.

A dislike he found deepened when he finally caught up with Elizabeth later on, having been given the all clear by the good doctor.

He'd turned the corner, about to call out to her when he'd just come into the range where he could see who she was talking to. His clone.  
Furthermore his clone moved in closer, much closer than necessary or appropriate, as he told her something she obviously found funny, her head tipping back as she giggled. He'd never made her giggle before, what could he have possibly said to her?

They both looked up, the moment interrupted gladfully by his proximity.  
He tried to sound casual and unaffected as he called out to them.

"Elizabeth" he greeted her cheerfully, then turning stiffly and looking his clone up and down settling for saying nothing.  
He turned his attention back to her as she started to address him.  
"Ford suggested that it might be easier to tell which one of you is which if you wear different shirts or something, Anything we can distinguish you by."  
"Sure, that's fine, whatever you want." he replied eager to please her.  
She smiled warmly, at both of them he noted, before she bid them farewell.

Without paying any further time to the thought he began walking to his quarters, stopping when he picked up on the second set of footsteps that appeared to be following him.  
"What do you want?" he asked, frustrated at his clone. This day had been far too stressful already and all he wanted was to get back to his room and relax.

"I'm going to my quarters,"  
He blinked unsure he'd heard the man correctly.  
"Your quarters?"  
"Yes, my quarters. In fact they're _our_ quarters and have _our_ clothes. How else did you think we were both going to get different shirts to separate ourselves."

"Let me get this straight, _you_, expect _me_, to give _you_, some of _my_ clothes?"  
The meaning of the emphasis in the statement seemed completely lost on his clone who stubbornly said a simple "Yes."  
He grumpily conceded as they approached the door.  
"Fine, but you get yourself your own quarters. I was here first." he said as he pressed the control crystals to open it.

It had been a mistake for him to collapse on his bed first thing upon getting inside the room.  
He'd lay there face down, groaning into the covers in pain. Even though Carson had cleared the injury it didn't make it hurt less.  
He'd looked up at the noise of the door opening to see the clone making off with a large bundle of clothes but quickly rushed out after him when he saw what one of the items was.  
"Hey, get back here."  
The clone stopped, looking back at him annoyed.  
"You can't take that, it's my favourite shirt." he said as he moved to take one of the items.  
"Too bad you weren't paying attention earlier then isn't it. I got there first." the clone said tugging it back harshly before sprinting off into the distance so quickly Rodney couldn't protest further.

He pouted unhappily at the empty corridor. That had been his favourite shirt as well, the one he was sure made him look his absolute best. He'd been saving it in case he needed it for a special occasion even though there weren't really any such events on Atlantis.  
He returned to the room, rooting through the makeshift wardrobe, holding up piece after piece of clothing.  
He whined, realising that all he'd been left with were his comfortable but lame geeky tshirt and shirts combos. The only good thing about that was at least no one could mistake them if there was one smartly dressed and one geekily dressed, only it made him look bad and the clone look good, perhaps too good he thought as he considered the earlier exchange when he'd gone to meet Elizabeth. He tried to rationalise that he was sure he'd imagined it, after all he'd never do anything like that with Elizabeth. Only he couldn't shake off the feeling since it wasn't really him he was talking about.


	3. Chapter 2: The Numbers just don't add up

Authors Note: This hasn't been beta-read so I apologize if it has grammar/spelling errors in or if the characters sound a bit off. Please let me know what you think of this, complaints, suggestions; any feedback would be helpful as long as it is constructive.

This idea has been swimming around in my head for a while and I wanted to do something a bit more lighthearted than my other stories. Hope its ok.

Spoilers: For Season One episodes 1-14 probably.

Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to Stargate in any incarnations of course and I'm not making any money, this is just some harmless fanfic fun.

* * *

**Chapter 2 : The Numbers Just Don't Add Up

* * *

**

It had been a weary two weeks since the incident that had left Atlantis with two McKay's and Rodney had been working diligently ever since. Trying mainly to take his mind off the idea that 'he' was walking round the city, possibly doing any number of extremely embarrassing things that anyone might mistake him doing.

And he didn't doubt that his twin, as some affectionately called him, would be beyond such an idea.

At first Elizabeth had set them working together, which had been a disaster since both hims had had a way they wanted the things doing. He would have thought they'd have both agreed but that appeared not to happen. There had from then on been a quickly established competition going on between them. The McKay/McKay relationship had not been a success despite everyones joking that each of their egos would soak up the mutual praise and adoration that was sure to follow.

'Quentin', as he'd told everyone to call him by his middle name - with much relief from Major Sheppard that Ford had no say in the matter, had been more than disgruntled that Beckett's introduction of the ATA gene had not stuck to him this time.

Rodney remembered the feeling he'd had at not having the gene, the sense of lacking, of envy for those who had it but Quentin seemed angry that as the original he had retained it whilst the machine of the Ancients that had created him had been able to tell it was artificial and had not replicated it as well. Beckett had tried to console Quentin from what he heard, explaining that it was sheer luck, bad luck in his case, that it had failed. But the rejection this time meant until Beckett improved his method there would be no chance of Quentin having the gene.

And so Quentin had made up for it in other ways.  
Ways that Rodney thought himself impossible at - making friends.

He'd never been patient or open enough to do so easily but Quentin had put his mind and possibly heart to the task, which was easier considering he hopped around the research teams helping the scientists and choosing which experiments he did. He also as a normal scientist rather than chief scientist found himself with enough leisure time to pander to the needs of others since he had no vast projects or progress reports to write, nor others reports to review.

It seemed like every time he made his way to the small cafeteria Quentin would be there, smiling broadly in a manner Rodney couldn't imagine himself doing so eagerly.

A week ago he had found himself surprised to hear Quentin recounting a tale from his college days, a crowd of civilians and military people alike wrapped around his little finger in anticipation of the morsels of knowledge and humour his clone gave out.

Quentin saw him come in, meeting his stare across the room, silent for a second to illustrate how everyone was hanging on to his every word. Just as suddenly he continued with a flourish telling the punchline of the story. Rodney had been so wrapped up in the little exchange he'd walked right into Elizabeth with her tray,.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, it tilting up between them and spilling her precious orange juice over her uniform.  
She scrunched up her face unhappily and looked down at her top judging the damage.  
"I'm sorry..." he started but sure she would forgive. He hadn't meant it after all.  
Instead of her usually lovely reassuring smile she looked at him like she neither knew nor cared for him. At least he mused she didn't seem too bothered by her damp top as she carried on, vaguely pointing to where she walked to "I'll just be over there".

He looked down shyly and went to get some food, disturbed how keen she had been to get to Quentin.  
He picked out his rations and loaded up his plate, intending to join her, but heading towards them he saw Quentin reaching over with a napkin and pulling up her shirt to dab at the stain very deliberately.  
Elizabeth smiled up at Quentin, looking touched by the gesture.  
He felt his heart sink as she said thank you. Particularly that she was the only one who still called Quentin Rodney as if she didn't know the difference.  
He suddenly hadn't much appetite, retiring very quickly to his lab, pouring himself over his work.

* * *

Aiden Ford made his way over to his superior, who sat twiddling his food on his fork deep in thought.  
"Hey, sir"  
John looked up, boyish eyes swiveling to meet his friends cheerful face.  
"Hi Ford. Sit" he said, the last word spoken as a friendly suggestion. 

So he sat, waiting for John to say something.  
When he didn't he decided to broach a conversation that had been niggling him for the last week.  
"Have you notice Dr. McKay been off his food lately?"  
"McKay, no. I just had lunch with him, he ate it like a horse. Why?"  
"No, not that Dr. McKay." pressed Aiden, pronouncing who he meant specially "Rodney."  
"Oh!" was all Sheppard said in return.  
"So?" he prompted.  
"I don't know haven't really seen much of him, but Quentin's around a lot, practically lives in here and the common room."

Ford sighed seeing his friend was missing the point. Did no one round here think about Rodney? Maybe that was the problem.  
"Don't you think Quentin is a little strange sir?"  
"How'd you mean?" Sheppard asked sounding curious.  
"Well he doesn't really act like McKay does, I mean like Rodney does."  
"Hadn't noticed myself." Sheppard replied nonchalantly, leaning back in his chair.  
"But do you ever remember the old McKay telling you college stories and making physics sound interesting?"  
"No but that doesn't mean he couldn't."  
Aiden could see the point but still didn't agree.

And so it was Aiden's turn to swizzle his food around on his plate, there just didn't seem to be a way to communicate the strangeness to his friend. Puzzling over it he recalled a conversation he'd had yesterday which gave him an inkling. He began confidently, sure that it would make John realise something was wrong.

"What about the fact that Dr. Zelenka doesn't get on with Quentin and after only a couple of weeks Quentin is chummy with Kavanaugh of all people.  
Sheppard just shrugged it off  
"Good for them."

Ford sighed heavily and hoped he could find someone who wasn't as blind as the rest of the people he'd tried to discuss this with.

And he hoped he'd figure it out soon he added to himself seeing the scruffy figure that he knew was Rodney walk in, pick up an apple only, bouncing it in his hand as he glanced around, then suddenly left on his own.

Ford really couldn't imagine anything much more disturbing than McKay put off food that had no lemon in it. Although perhaps that would be the happy smiling easy going Quentin; Ford didn't trust him for some reason and he wanted to know why.


	4. Chapter 3: The Other Side of the Coin

Authors Note: This hasn't been beta-read so I apologize if it has grammar/spelling errors in or if the characters sound a bit off. Please let me know what you think of this, complaints, suggestions; any feedback would be helpful as long as it is constructive.

After a break I finally came back to this and hope it's still going ok. I do have a plan but not all the details, so unless i get plot bunnies breeding on this fic then it might be awhile til more. Sorry if that's so. And also a lot of people asked if this was inspired by the Xander split episode of Buffy. No It is inspired vaguely by the StarTrek:Original Series evil Kirk but only more like scifi cliché and importantly they Rodney's are both Rodney and not the evil/good versions of him Hope it's clearer in this chapter.

Spoilers: For Season One episodes 1-14 probably.

Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to Stargate in any incarnations of course and I'm not making any money, this is just some harmless fanfic fun.

* * *

**Chapter 3: The Other Side of the Coin

* * *

**

It was 5am and he sat in his lab. He had twenty reports to review and 4 hours until the next meeting he needed to attend.  
Not enough for decent sleep but just enough time to do the reports if he could concentrate on them.  
Only problem was he couldn't.  
She'd be there.  
And worse he'd be there.

_Quentin and Elizabeth._

And she'd giggle undoubtedly, because Quentin had that bizarre effect on her. Whilst these days she never got his jokes, watching him blankly like he was mad or pathetic or something else he couldn't take. It was like she thought him a stranger to what she now knew and couldn't reconcile the real Rodney with the new 'improved' version that everyone had a habit of preferring. It was always "Quentin, can you take a look at this?" everyone wanting to show the latest and greatest to him before their actual chief scientist and then it was "Hiya, Quentin" from cute blonde commandos in the hall, admiring Quentin's muscles, practically drooling despite the fact they never paid a single whip of attention to him before.

The cafeteria was now a no go zone, making food brief snacks, dinner made mobile and eaten in seclusion of his lab. Sometimes Ford would drop by, acting casual and as if he was really interested in whatever Ancient thing was the most recently discovered. Or even, as he had last time, that he wanted to know how the Stargate worked; trying to pass it off as necessary for tactical advantage even as his eyes glazed over after a sentence or less.

And why was the cafeteria so bad? Quentin lived there a quarter of the time and where ever Quentin was she was too. Joined at the hip and bosom buddies, just how Quentin enjoyed it. He couldn't blame the guy for liking spending time with Elizabeth but it was the motivation that he questioned. He didn't yet know if it was real or fake, either way Elizabeth had taken to 'Q' better than him and there was not much he could do to change that whilst she avoided him like the plague in favour of his clone.

The hours passed slowly as he went through report after report, reviewing and evaluating the work until it was time. More than time in fact he realised as he snorted awake, his body slumped painfully over on the bench, back stiff. Finding his face stacked atop the half finished reports.

"Yo, Rodney!" called out someone way too loud for his liking.  
Ugh. He sat up weary and focused on the man in front of him. Ford.  
"You been here all night?" Ford asked, allowing his ever chipper morning smile to fade a tad.

It wasn't right for someone to like being up this early and he could almost cherish worrying the guy but for the fact he'd been one of the only people who still put up with him lately, or put up with the difference; the fact he wasn't Quentin, best friend to all. Ford was an exception. Looking at it from a certain perspective you might even say the lieutenant had gone out of his way to befriend him, a reasonable turn around from the initial annoyance of having him on AR-1.

"The meeting is about to start, Dr. Weir sent me to remind you."  
"I'm not late?"  
The lieutenant shook his head at that. "Not yet anyway."  
Which made Rodney wonder.  
"But why did she send you if I wasn't late?"

Ford bit his tongue, like he was trying to hold back form saying something and it couldn't be anything he thought the scientist wanted to hear. Rodney could guess it probably came from Ford's upbringing, he could just imagine good old grandma teaching lil' Aiden that age old of bone of wisdom 'If you can't say something don't say anything at all'. But really, thought Rodney, what could make him feel worse than not having slept in 29 hours.

"Spit it out." he demanded.  
"Well..."  
Ford looked a bit sheepish, his expression showing off his youth and Rodney almost felt bad for putting him on the spot. Then he reminded himself that Ford was military, looks were deceiving because the guy was tough as old boots and a little bit of discomfort wasn't much compared to what they handled on missions. No coddling; even if he had sidled up to him the last few weeks.

"...it's just I've noticed you seem to avoiding Dr. Weir and maybe she realises it too and you know, wanted to make sure you didn't skip the meeting ."  
There was barely a pause between the embarrassed admittance and his cool unconcerned reply.  
"Fine. I'm ready, let's go." he said, snapping his fingers at Ford whilst he told himself sternly 'I don't care what she thinks' as if it could be true if he repeated it enough...

* * *

"Quentin, stop, please." was the cry he heard from outside the briefing room. Elizabeth's laugh bordering on flirtatious, hitting his ears, followed by Quentin's low chuckle of amusement. Amusement at what though; the joke, Elizabeth's response or the game he might well be playing with them all. Perhaps it was him, lack of sleep making him paranoid but it was like Quentin used everyone to get to him, people as pawns in a grand match between them. If it was so Quentin was the only one playing but it was a bad enough taunt if that was what it was designed to be. 

And it was enough to make him want to turn tail and bail out of the stupid briefing but he only stopped, giving an exasperated look as if to say this-is-why to Ford who shrugged at it trying to remain neutral.

The laughter stopped suddenly as he entered, putting on his best smile for the situation. Problem was his best smile for having not slept in 2 days and being more than a little resentful wasn't very nice to see, twisted and wry and as sarcastic as any comment even if he hadn't meant it to be. Like everything he felt showed through in it, awkward and bitterly.

No one responded to his greeting, a muteness overcoming them all as they watched him take his seat. Did he looked that bad? He was a bit disheveled he knew but why were they still staring. Hadn't anyone taught them it was rude.

* * *

Elizabeth tried not to shift in her seat as Rodney stared at her unforgivingly.  
She reminded herself there was nothing going on, with Quentin or Rodney, and besides that she hadn't been doing anything wrong by talking to Quentin. It was just Rodney's stare made her feel like she'd stabbed him in the back. 

She swallowed her discomfort, avoiding the gazes of both the McKay's and started the meeting.  
"Anyway onto business. I believe you wanted to raise an issue Major."  
Sheppard leant forward, nodding.  
"Yes I do. I think Quentin should join AR-2 for the time being."  
Rodney was the only one who had anything to say to that, even though it shouldn't have affected him.  
But he'd picked up on the hint of Sheppard's, the underlying promise of more.  
"For the time being? What do you mean by that."  
"Exactly what I said. For. The. Time. Being." replied Sheppard steadily.  
"And after 'the time being' what then?" asked Rodney rather accusingly.  
"Maybe you could share time in AR-1." Sheppard said it warily, as if he already knew it wasn't going to go down well. He hadn't been wrong.

"What!"  
Rodney stood up suddenly, looked round, presumably for answers or some show of sanity, he obviously didn't like this idea one bit. Quentin however looked pleased, quietly happy at prospect and saying nothing more on the matter.

"Why? Come on Rodney play nice. Sharing is good and Quentin's getting a little stir crazy here." posed Sheppard, trying to appeal to Rodney's soft side. Which was terminally absent when dealing with Quentin she'd noticed.  
"So? He can go to the mainland or something." deflected Rodney, brushing it off as nothing important with a wave of his hand.

That had been what had broken John's patience unfortunately, now more than eager to debate in full favour of Quentin, who said there biding his time waggling his thumbs and acting only vaguely interested. Sometimes she found it hard to tell what was going on with Quentin, unlike Rodney who she could see through two thirds of the time and otherwise usually had an clue. If Rodney was an open textbook then it would fit to say Quentin was a locked diary, opening rarely, at choice moments. The sound of John's angry voice broke her reverie. They were still arguing fervently their respective prejudices.

"Hardly fair when you get to go off-world and he doesn't. AND you get to be head poncho of the science teams whilst he's a lowly lab runner!"

Rodney was about to respond but Elizabeth cut him off, seeing it might well escalate into ruff and tumble at this rate if she did nothing. She continued when she was sure she had their attention, glad to see Rodney was still drawn to her by her command. It was one thing for him to ignore her but it would not be acceptable if he dismissed her leadership; gladly that wasn't so.

"Rodney, you should hear us out..." said Elizabeth. She felt her heart tug as she realised the mistake of using the term 'us', making it seem like a plot against him, but she carried on hoping she could reason him down form his high and mighty stand against Quentin.

Everyone deserved a chance, happiness, respect and Quentin was no different. She would have thought he'd be more cooperative considering it was himself they were talking about or at least someone so similar to himself. They had their differences by now, because of the circumstances they'd had to endure since the accident, but each was indefinably Rodney McKay. She saw it in so many little things they did. And at the same time Quentin was his own man, someone she'd found an easy friendship with, easier even than Rodney. This was where it got confusing because technically they were both Rodney and she called Quentin the same because he had asked her to, feeling more comfortable with it after having been called it all his life just as the original Rodney had.

That was the difficulty with this, both of them trying to live the same life, the men competitive and seeing that neither could have everything as they wanted. She simply had to show them, though most resistance came from Rodney she admitted, that they would have to work together on this.

"It's hard for you I understand but you both have to adapt to this unique situation, sharing responsibilities should make it easier for you _and_ Quentin. I'm quite willing to agree to this if Sergeant Bates is as well. I thinks its a wonderful compromise."

"You would." he spat at her.

She hesitated for a second, shocked at the hateful tone he had taken with her, before she woke up from the confusion and defended herself verbally.

"Excuse me?" she asked. Her heart beat raced as she met his steely gaze. She actually wanted him to explain, wanted to know what he had meant by that. There had already been his glare earlier and this only led her to believe he had a problem with her, or more accurately with the friendship between her and Quentin. He might as well admit to it because otherwise nothing involving Quentin would ever get resolved.  
But he never said a word, studying them one by one, focusing on Quentin last before stalking out.

She reacted instinctively, jogging after him.  
"Rodney! Get back here." she yelled, ignoring the gate room personnel, as she tried to catch up with him. He was a speedy devil when he wanted to be, even though he wasn't running.

Elizabeth stopped, panting a little, noting he had turned the way to the quarters and not the labs.  
She wanted an explanation but something stopped her going after him, not allowing herself to, settling for watching his retreat, as he nearly tripped up in his furious desire to get away from her.

She composed herself, straightening her jacket and made her way back to the meeting, dismissing everyone when she got there and not acknowledging their concerned looks.

Making excuses of paperwork she made her was to her office, refusing the joyous Quentin's offer of lunch. Personally she didn't want to have deal with either of them right now since they were a handful and she didn't much care for celebrating with Quentin when it only served to antagonize Rodney. She was finding it weird that neither cared for their counterparts welfare one bit, but then there had always been things about him, shortcomings, that she had learnt to accept. And she'd accepted him as he was, the same with Quentin, but it wasn't like what she had Rodney, which was probably the whole point. The reports sat in front of her but her mind kept on drawing back to the meeting, to its abrupt end.

He'd never done that, he'd never said nothing, it was unlike him to drop an argument. In fact it was a very bad sign for him to say nothing at all. She could deal with his panic, with his anger maybe, with his flustered banter and the torrent of thoughts and questions that often streamed from his mouth.

But nothing? You couldn't do anything with that. She couldn't help him or work out what it meant.  
But it was clear wasn't it, that he was jealous. Only he was very wrong and Elizabeth wished he wouldn't take it so badly because this was how it had to be.


	5. Chapter 4: Much ado about nothing

Authors Note: This hasn't been beta-read so I apologize if it has grammar/spelling errors in or if the characters sound a bit off. Please let me know what you think of this, complaints, suggestions; any feedback would be helpful as long as it is constructive.

Thanks to NotANumber for motivation and an evil plot kitty that you'll all be seeing in the future of this story.

Spoilers: For Season One episodes 1-14 probably.

Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to Stargate in any incarnations of course and I'm not making any money, this is just some harmless fanfic fun.

* * *

**Chapter 4: Much ado about nothing

* * *

**

Aiden peered round the corner, his heart beat skipping as he saw his target. He swerved back round, pressing him back to the wall and waiting until the footsteps sounded far enough away to follow.

One, two, three, four, five...

All clear, he padded down the next hall before hiding behind a bulkhead, a good vantage point for checking the new area to move on further.

It was a neat trail, deeper into the city, far away from everyone else and the city's daily activities. The whole of E-section was practically silent, making the mission difficult.

Ford grinned because that's what made it fun, a challenge to his training, involving a worthy adversary. Besides that he couldn't resist checking their suspicious behaviour out, especially after this morning.  
And because he intended to get to the bottom of things.

He still had that feeling he couldn't shake, that all of this only confirmed.  
Quentin was up to something and he'd find out what it was very shortly.

The last stretch was the hardest, devoid of hiding places should Quentin hear a noise and come to investigate.  
As he closed in on Quentin's position he twitched his nose. What was that smell? It was familiar but long forgotten, hidden away in his memory.  
Ignoring the sensation he swung round to look through the door into the ancient, supposedly disused, lab.

He gaped at the scene in front of him,Quentin in the middle of it all. The scientist looked up at Ford's silent form and scowled in his usual foul way.  
"You realise what you've done don't you? No one was meant to know about this, not yet anyway."  
Ford stood in shock, blinking rapidly, unable to say a word let alone tell a soul of what he'd exposed.

* * *

He ran as fast as he could. Wanting to get away from the disaster that seemed to grow, the problem spreading like a disease, creeping like Quentin did. Turning them all against him one by one. 

For everyone else Quentin was him, just like him but that bit different that made him somehow unquantifiably better than his original. An improvement over him.

What was it?  
Was his smile somehow more symmetrical? He'd read a paper that once suggested that symmetry was perceived as beauty, in which case he'd presumed his smile was about as ugly as it could get at best with it's lopsidedness.

Did he know more than him? It was unlikely even if Quentin did have more spare time. Sheppard had said he was a lab runner. Probably meant he fixed all those nagging things that he'd never bothered with and had assigned to others. The small things people appreciated. Nice for Quentin that he had the time to earn favours.

And then there was the way Quentin twisted everyone around his little finger without them minding.  
Using subtlety rather than usual blunt force honesty that he preferred.

He couldn't figure out the man even though he was thinking about himself.

Everything should have made sense except that Quentin was different, different particles, different interactions. A completely new man who happened to have his memories and look just like him. Same chemistry, same body, same mind – until life, the universe and particle interactions interfered and they became two distinct people – alike enough to hate each other for infringing on each's territory.

Maybe it was unfair to treat it like a competition, what Elizabeth had said had had wisdom in it that was finally sinking in but he didn't want to admit it. He sighed and stepped off the lone treadmill their gym had and trudged out of the room towards his quarters to change.

Coming out of his room he saw a gaggle of people all trussed up. He followed them curious of what was going on. If he didn't know better he would have said they were going to a party but surely he'd know if that was true.

As he struggled to catch up with them he felt more and more annoyed. They were heading to the mess hall as far as he could tell but he had to stop to compose himself.

He should have felt good after the exercise. That was one of the reasons why he'd done some for once. It couldn't help to be fitter than Quentin, prove his worth on AR-1 and to get that edge over Quentin on looks too. He only had geeky shirts but he might as well look good in them. Plus there had been a vague remembrance of Carson saying something once about endorphins released after exercise, making you happy and relaxed and he'd thought why not. Sleep hadn't come easily and he had become far too stressed lately. All in all the idea had seemed fitting at the time, in his angry state of mind.

Now as he approached the mess hall he regretted it but soon forgot his tired aching as he saw what the fuss had been about.  
It wasn't so much a party as a feast.  
Everything they'd had rationed lately was spread out in great abandon, dishes piled high.

His eyes were wide and wild at the plentiful display until he caught site of Quentin standing off to one side, who waved in mock pleasantness upon seeing him before going back to listening to Sheppard. Ford stood by the pair, looking a little guilty to be there as he noticed Rodney, but quickly making his way over to explain.

"Dr. McKay." he said meekly, seeking forgiveness he wasn't getting right this minute.  
"Ford." Rodney replied formally.

One by one Quentin got to them.  
He'd thought Ford was immune to that charm but it seemed not to be true after all.  
Rodney stood there saying nothing, leaving Ford silent and hopefully repenting.

Then he remembered, the food awaited.  
He strode over to the table, taking a handful of crisps. He tasted one first, satisfied that it was real enough before he attacked the rest of the buffet with the plate he'd picked up from the thankfully provided stack in the middle of the table.

He was vaguely conscious that Ford had tagged along with him and that he was talking about Quentin. Not quite about how wonderful Quentin was for providing the feast, or about how clever Quentin was for figuring out the machine but it was slowly taking hold of ford and Rodney didn't doubt it would work eventually. Because that hope he'd had for someone, anyone noticing was flailing. After all if Quentin could get to Elizabeth then how was anyone else a problem.

There was a part of him that wanted to kick himself for not thinking to work on the machine but he hadn't wanted to considering what it had done to him. Besides that it hadn't been a priority since they had determined there was nothing to do over this except accept that there was two of him. What else could they do? Elizabeth had made it clear they couldn't dump him anywhere, that he was him and they had a responsibility. She'd said it was a risk they all took that the unexpected could happen when working with Ancient technology but he bet no one had thought of exactly this when deciding if it was worth it.

Ford was still talking but he zoned out as he went in the direction of the few empty tables, nibbling on one of the snacks as he walked.

They happened to be quite close to Quentin and Sheppard and as he walked past he stopped in his tracks at what he heard.

He couldn't comprehend the words totally until it hit him. That was how he did it. The jerk was wiling to practically sell his soul to make 'friends'. There was no other explanation for why he'd say such deprecating things about hockey. He'd never ask about football in his life. Who cared about such an idiotic gung-ho lets get out brains and ones smashed out sport. Now hockey was a sport that required skill and something every Canadians could be proud of.

Then came the digs at Canada. From Quentin's own mouth.  
Sheppard looked briefly confused but it didn't stop him chuckling when he saw Quentin was too.

He felt his grip on the plate tighten painfully.  
It was unbelievable. The son of a ...didn't deserve to be called McKay or wear the flag on his arm.

Ford seemed to put his hand on his shoulder, concerned at his behaviour as he stared at Sheppard and 'McKay'.  
And another thing. Quentin moved to punch Sheppard on the arm in an oddly matey gesture.  
He was all but flirting with Sheppard. Or at least the male non-sexual equivalent. There was probably a word for it but he'd never known nor needed to know what it was. It was sickening to watch. If this was what Quentin was like with Sheppard then what did he do with others, or even Elizabeth, when he wasn't around?

Rodney still stared, less and less aware of the feeling in his hand and on his arm where Ford now gripped, just about reading to shake him.  
Then his vision glazed over, barely enough time for a thought as every sensation was lost in blackness.

In amongst the noisy atmosphere of the gathering here was a distinct smash of the plate as it hit the ground, covering up the thud of Rodney's body as it hit the floor.

* * *

A/N: Evil I know but things will get better next chapter, oh so briefly better at least. 


	6. Chapter 5: Here nor there

Authors Note: This hasn't been beta-read so I apologize if it has grammar/spelling errors in or if the characters sound a bit off. Please let me know what you think of this, complaints, suggestions; any feedback would be helpful as long as it is constructive.

This version is quite major rewrite of earlier version I posted which is now deleted. Great thanks to Iona for helping out a lot with rewriting and practicaly beta-reading it over instant messaging.

The evilness is over for a short time (apart from the ending) but it will return with a vengeance I promise. So enjoy the brief respite from the McKay whumping, apart from Quentin that is.

Spoilers: For Season One episodes 1-14 probably.

Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to Stargate in any incarnations of course and I'm not making any money, this is just some harmless fanfic fun.

* * *

**Chapter 5: Here nor there

* * *

**

He came around, not opening his eyes for a minute.  
By smell alone he could tell he was in the infirmary. The unmistakable stench that was Carson's aftershave. He really wasn't sure why his friend thought it would send the nurses flocking to him because it only made him want to run far far away and possibly vomit, it was truly migraine inducing but Carson still insisted it worked like a charm.

It felt quite nice to be in a bed though, something that he'd missed for a while considering his busy schedule and insomnia.

He blinked a few times, realizing that there was a crowd across near the office which immediately recognised his awakening, rushing over.

Focusing on reality he was pleased to find himself looking up at Elizabeth. Her eyes were bright with emotion and he instantly regretted causing them them to panic.

Ford stood behind her, Carson, Teyla and even Sheppard on the other side of the bed. He was surprised to see the Major considering the earlier argument at the morning's briefing but it was obviously being ignored, if not having been forgotten entirely.  
"Rodney, Carson said curtly. His mouth was set in an annoyed but concerned grimace "Ford tells me you haven't been sleeping well."

"It's nothing..." he started to explain in the casual tone that should have suggested it wasn't anything out of the normal.  
Carson cut him off with a stern look that told him he wasn't taking any of that bullshit and that he was far from finished. The doctor crossed his arms and asked possibly the most important question.  
"When did you last eat Rodney? Not counting the meal in the mess hall, where you collapsed."

He cast his mind back trying to remember, coming up blank, unable to find anything to dissuade Carson from his reasoning. The F word wasn't used and that was where he might have been able to argue he was fine except he'd been out for long enough they'd carried him here, which certainly wasn't normal even for when he got engrossed in work and plain forgot to eat for hours and passed out.  
"That's what I thought. You should be taking better care of yourself, Rodney. I'm keeping you in overnight so your body has a chance to rest for once."

He was about to protest when he saw Elizabeth's look and knew it would be stupid to deny he needed the sleep.  
Rodney nodded in defeat and Carson smiled, appreciating Rodney's cooperation.  
"That's settled then, off with you lot. You can visit Rodney tomorrow, he'll still be here if I have anything to say about that. Which I will – doctors orders an' all." said Carson, glaring at Rodney at the last comment

Seeing the matter had been gotten to the bottom of, the group started to disband, Carson returning to his office.  
Teyla smiled at Rodney and squeezed his hand reassuringly.  
"We all wish you to be in good health. Please do not resist Dr. Beckett, he means well and I am sure he would not ask you to rest unless it was necessary."  
"Yeah, get better soon, doc," said Ford as he moved off with Teyla.  
Sheppard simply nodded at Rodney, an unspoken concern there, before leaving him with Elizabeth.

It was the first time in ages that he was alone with Elizabeth and he felt uncomfortable under her gaze, a bold change from her lack of attention recently. But everything in her eyes betrayed the fact she still cared about him and not just Quentin.

Speak of the devil...  
Just then Quentin arrived. He looked perhaps sympathetic seeing Rodney there, but quickly overcame that, feeling first indifferent and then jealous.

Though there really wasn't much for Quentin to be envious of because Elizabeth would no doubt leave him here to get back to Quentin's grand feast.

"Elizabeth, .. Rodney," Quentin greeted them, not too happy at having to act civil but managing it. It was done more for Elizabeth's sake than his own, he suspected.

"Ro..." Elizabeth stuttered out the start of his, their, name but thankfully changed her mind, finishing with "Quentin."  
Quentin paled at her address. It was the first time Rodney heard her call Quentin that directly and the man was visibly upset for a second. Then the jealousy kicked in again and he clenched his jaw, giving Rodney a none too subtle threatening look.

The look was either lost on Elizabeth or she ignored it, deciding on chatting to ease the tension between the three of them.  
"So, how's the feast going?"

From Quentin's expression he gathered this was a sore point. The only reason Rodney could think of was that his passing out had stolen all the attention from Quentin, whose glory had faded in the light of everyone's worry over the unexpected incident involving himself and the floor.

"It's fine, though I'm sure it would be even better having Atlantis's leader there. Good for morale, don't you think?"

Her gaze flitted between the two men, her priorities unclear. Rodney fully expected she'd bound off with good old Quentin and leave him to the boredom of the infirmary. There weren't even any nurses around at this time of day and Carson was busy with paperwork and tests.

Only she didn't leave him.  
She refused the offer and Quentin was taken aback at this news, with a barely repressed anger over it.  
"What!" cried Quentin, doing a double take.

Elizabeth repeated calmly.  
"I said I'm going to stay here with Rodney, keep him company for a while. You know how tedious the infirmary can be."

Quentin said nothing more, eyes downcast as he nodded in understanding.

But Rodney didn't care about his clone as he lay there unbelievably happy that she'd chosen to stay with him rather than go back to the party.

He focused on her face as she chided him gently for not taking care of himself.  
"Rodney..."  
He looked up at her, seeing her eyes resting on his hand as she held it.

"You should take better care of yourself. You could have done yourself some real damage. Try to be more careful in the future, okay? The expedition needs you healthy. And we'd all miss you if something happened... "  
There was a silence between them, interrupted by Quentin's scuffling in the background, at which the moment ended abruptly.

She glanced up at Rodney with a weak smile.  
"You gave us all quite a scare."

He took note of her words, how important she said he was, as their chief scientist and as a friend. He smiled back at her, no sarcasm there as he apologised only slightly reluctantly and secretly glad of what she had said.  
"Sorry. I'll try, but no promises."

Neither noticed Quentin, who was standing off to the side.  
Watching them together with sadness.

He stood there with no clue what to do, listening to them talking amicably. It was as if he didn't exist.  
He swallowed his pride, waiting for acknowledgment that he was there but it never came, they carried on chatting without a care in the world.

Elizabeth leaning over to speak to Rodney and holding his hand almost unconsciously. Quentin broke away, unable to look at them any longer. Storming out to take refuge somewhere in the city.

* * *

Several days later he was much improved for the rest and also the care and concern everyone showed him as he recovered back to his normal self.

Elizabeth had come to see him a number of times. Checking up on him when he was in the infirmary and then stopping by his lab every now and then supposedly to find out what the progress was on various projects. She tended to bring him food each time too, a power bar or some of the rations, occasionally an MRE or two.

Even though the rations had been the replicated items Quentin had made with the blasted machine from the lab, left over from the feast, his spirits had still soared at this. Some semblance of normality returning to his routine and Quentin staying out of his way. Everything was going fine, until that was he found his insomnia hadn't quite gone away yet and had taken a stroll around the city.

He'd walked in circles for a while but hadn't felt it was doing any good, preferring to get some sea air.  
He liked the balconies, always appreciating the stunning views and the relaxing noise of the ocean waves that crashed against the piers.  
And then there was the possibility that he might run into Elizabeth.

There was a spot he had in mind, his own place for these types of nights. One Elizabeth sometimes used as well, that they had a few times shared along with their problems. It was comforting to open up to her. As unfamiliar as he was with doing such things as heart to heart talks if there was anyone he could do that with here it was her.

He strode towards their balcony hopeful only to have every ounce crushed at what he saw.

Through the door he saw Elizabeth was out there, her back to him and facing the Quentin, talking animatedly to him about something. He couldn't tell what the topic was from where he stood, far enough away that the doors didn't sense him and open, which was why he couldn't hear what it was she was getting so passionate about.

Quentin didn't acknowledge his presence if he had noticed his approach, eyes not moving from Elizabeth as she spoke and settling on her in a way that disturbed Rodney.

Then there was a silence in which Quentin's look intensified. Rodney held his breath, afraid of what would happen and of being discovered. He almost wanted to burst in there to stop whatever was happening but he'd rather know what was going on.

A second later confirmed his worst fears, as Quentin moved in for the kill, embracing Elizabeth and their lips meeting with a fervour. Quentin looking up to see Rodney's horror at it, a triumph glaring at him from his eyes. Everything in them mocked him, taunted him and declared victory all at once.

Thoughts and feelings exploded in his mind; a pang in his heart at the betrayal.  
His anger was immediate but mostly he hated himself right now for trusting someone when he should have known better. He shook off his shock and set off, running off as fast as he could back to his quarters. Eager to succumb to a blissful sleep if that was at all possible, wanting to forget what he'd witnessed and go back to ignorance.

* * *

Quentin was overjoyed. Here he was with her in the most perfect place. Relishing the kiss he'd thought would never be.  
And for a short time he was in heaven.

Opening his eyes he saw 'Rodney' watching them, spoiling what should have been his moment.  
Rodney just stared at them, Elizabeth completely unaware of it.

Quentin glared at the man, hating that Rodney couldn't let him have something of his own, that everything was about Rodney McKay – Quentin McKay was the outsider, fed the scraps, the leftovers from 'Rodney's' life.  
The one time he had felt at home he had been thrust from it and made to feel insignificant.

He almost smiled into the kiss as he saw Rodney flee but the man's hasty retreat meant he missed what happened next. The brutal blow Quentin hadn't seen coming.

Elizabeth came to her senses and pushed him away  
"I... I can't do this."

He knew she was trying to explain why they couldn't do anything like this but the real reason was left unsaid.  
She meant she couldn't do this to Rodney.  
She forgot that he was Rodney, acting as if his other self was the only Rodney Mckay and he was an imposter.

Wasn't that what everyone saw when they looked at him?  
Oh, they were friendly enough and no one denied him company, they treated him fairly, considering the situation.  
There was, however, a catch.

He wasn't their Dr. McKay, he wasn't the one they trusted and respected.  
It was as if his memories were nothing more than an mirage, like all the things he could picture he had never done. Every good deed worthless to them because it was actually 'Rodney''s doing, not his.

Quentin McKay, in their eyes, had done absolutely nothing worth mentioning.  
His whole life treated like it was a lie. From the moment he had come into being he'd been forced into a completely different role than he had had originally, something he was unsuited for, if you asked him. But no one had. He was no longer top dog, instead taking orders from people like Kavanagh.

Would there ever be anything that would change her mind about him? Prove to her that he was just as much the man she cared about, just as much as 'Rodney' was. He searched her eyes and saw her confusion.

He leant in again, wanting one more brief kiss. Hopeful she might suddenly see what a mistake she'd made, that if she looked into his eyes she would see the truth.

It only earnt him a slap on the face and Elizabeth backed off, alarmed by his behaviour, quickly exiting the previously welcoming balcony.

Leaving him alone under the starry sky, rubbing the right side of his face ruefully.  
He grinned grimly despite his painful cheek. Not exactly the perfect outcome, though not entirely unexpected, given his experiences with women.  
Rejection was something he'd grown used to, but still it hurt.

This time he'd thought it would be different, that she was different.  
Perhaps it wasn't her; it had to be him. The problem was that she thought him different when in fact nothing about him had truly changed.

Deep down he was Rodney, or at least had been to start with.  
Because he no longer felt like he had an identity, except what they superimposed on him.

* * *

A/N: Reviews are always appreicated... 


	7. Chapter 6: Far from it

Authors Note: This hasn't been beta-read so I apologize if it has grammar/spelling errors in or if the characters sound a bit off. Please let me know what you think of this, complaints, suggestions; any feedback would be helpful as long as it is constructive.

Spoilers: For Season One episodes 1-14 definitely.

Great thanks to Jess and Iona for alpha-reading this and helping me make it just about right for now. This chapter has taken a lot longer to write but I hope it's worth the wait.

Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to Stargate in any incarnations of course and I'm not making any money, this is just some harmless fanfic fun.

* * *

**Chapter 6: Far from it

* * *

**

Elizabeth walked into the dining area, eyes scanning the occupants, looking for him. She was avoiding Quentin, no surprise considering last night.

Everything was a mess. She saw now that Quentin was not as different compared to Rodney as she had thought. At first she'd felt comfortable with Quentin, an ease there that seemed right between them, of friendship. Of course Rodney had mistaken that for more, for her choosing one of them over the other.

Which had been something she'd never intended.  
Nothing was meant to be there.  
She'd struggled with her feelings after she'd decided anything between her and Simon was over. Her and Rodney...  
The idea was difficult and the issue complex at best. How could it happen now there were two of them?  
But it was probably better like this. Or would have been if not for the incident on the balcony.

The look Quentin had given her this morning as he brushed past her without a word had been hard to endure, but she knew it was her fault. Quentin had taken her spending time with him just the same as Rodney had. Both believing something more was going on.

There really wasn't anything she could do to make it up to Quentin, the issue better avoided until he had calmed down. Rodney, however, she'd owed him an apology for some time. She should have never let him cut himself off from everyone following Quentin's attempts to establish his presence as separate from Rodney. The whole thing had simply alienated both men. One trying to be someone he was not and the other struggling to maintain what he was.

It was fortunate that Rodney was there, sitting at a table in the corner, away from everyone else.  
He seemed so rarely to be there until he had come out hiding away from them after his collapse four days ago. Since then she'd shared meals with him a few times but mostly visited him in his lab, finding it good to know he was well again and to see it with her own eyes.

She sat down next to him, not asking but flashing him a smile to let him know she was pleased to see him there.  
He looked up from his food, a foul glance at her and said something very unlike him.  
"I didn't say you could sit there."

She wasn't sure she had heard right. There was never much need to ask him if she could sit at his table. He usually preempted her question with a okay-ing wave to a seat nearby.  
"Pardon?" she asked lightly.  
He repeated it just as gruffly the second time.  
"I didn't say you could just butt in and sit here, did I?"  
"Well, no but..."  
He cut her off, all too quickly losing his patience.  
"Exactly so why don't you go find yourself another table. I'm sure you have people you'd rather dine with."

At which he dug into his food, stabbing the meat viciously with his fork and shoving a large chunk into his mouth.  
"Not really." she replied, unsure of what this was about. She'd been spending more time with Rodney than with Quentin this last half a week and so this sudden change was unexpected and unexplainable.

"You sure?" he said in the same unwavering but affected tone.  
"Yes." she replied, starting to get annoyed with his attitude.  
His gaze was incredulous, as if searching for a crack in her facade that would betray the truth.  
She didn't understand what exactly he was looking for but he got to the point fairly quickly after that.

"So you're telling me you'd rather sit here with me then be off smooching your boyfriend somewhere?"  
The chatter of the mess hall stopped abruptly. Until then she hadn't been aware of how loudly he'd been talking back at her.

She could feel everyone's attention on them but he seemed to be beyond caring, scraping the legs of his chair on the floor hideously as he got up, leaving his tray of food unfinished.

She sat there, trying to avoid the stares of her people and thinking that it couldn't get worse than this. But then again she'd thought that last night too.  
Question was what happened now. She was sure the whole of Atlantis would have heard about this within the hour and feeling there was nothing she could do to repair the damage done.

* * *

His life was a living hell.  
He'd passed her in the hall this morning, not caring for the pity she held when she'd looked at him.

And he'd been trying ignore it, ignore the way she made him feel, to quell the excitement at seeing her because it was moronic. She'd never love him, she probably despised him for putting her in that position, for the guilt at what she'd done to his other self.  
She might have thought she hadn't chosen between them but she already had, it was clear she wanted 'Rodney'.

But as Kavanagh had rattled on about a thousand and one things he needed doing today, all he could concentrate on was her. The fact they'd never kiss again, that she would take back that kiss in a heartbeat if she could, if she knew who'd been watching. And that was one of the things that made him feel slightly happier, that he wasn't the only one suffering.

It was as selfish as he could get but he didn't care. Rodney didn't know what a good thing he had going, most likely thought he was the one with the raw deal. It might as well be true if he already believed it.

"Dr. McKay?"  
He glanced up to meet Teyla's eyes, full of concern. His mood softened instantly, wondering what was wrong that she would be like that.

"Yes?"  
She walked closer, her wide eyes fixed on him and he knew she was going to call in a favour and he'd gladly do it.  
She started out tentatively. "I presume you have heard the rumours going around the base."

He stopped working once again, curious about what she was referring to.  
"No."  
People are saying that there is something between you and Dr. Weir."  
"They are?"  
How could they possibly know that unless...

"And I am deeply concerned for Dr. McKay's state of mind. I was hoping you could speak with him and put his mind at rest."

It took him a few seconds to comprehend what she was saying, the double use of his name still confused him but he should have know her concern would be for Rodney; it was predictable really and stupid that he ever held out hope that they might mean him.

"Fine, sure, whatever. I'll do it later."  
His answer was flippant but she accepted it and left him in peace.

He couldn't believe the idiot had more or less told the whole base . As if them feeling awful wasn't enough Rodney had had to dump Elizabeth straight in it too.  
He'd have a word with Rodney alright but he doubted it would do either of them any good.

* * *

"You can't do this!" exclaimed Rodney.

"Oh, really, give me one good reason." Quentin retorted, an amused smirk already on his lips as he watched Rodney pace past him, unable to think up a satisfactory answer.  
"You... just... can't!" cried Rodney as if it was wrong for anything to be an iota less than his ideal.

Quentin no longer remembered how the argument got to this point but every word out of Rodney's mouth pushed him further into the heart of the issue.

"Why not? You get all the glory, all the kudos and I get friends, a life in fact. I like that arrangement." That one statement missing off the fact that what he had wasn't that great, far from it but he'd prefer Rodney thought that he was having the time of his life, just to rub it in even if it wasn't true.

"Well I don't." said Rodney suddenly quiet, almost remorseful as he wiped his face wearily in front of Quentin.

"Why can't we compromise, spread the work, share the fun?"  
Quentin grinned at the audacity of the man. _Now _he wanted to make things easy but only once things had gotten hard on him. Rodney McKay couldn't have cared less about his counterpart and so why should he care about him.

"Because you got the damned gene, that's why." he spat back at the Rodney.  
"I don't want the gene, I want..."  
Rodney left it at that because in all honestly they both knew what he hadn't said, because neither of them, really, was bothered about the gene or even the science much.

"This isn't fair, you're taking over my life, taking my friends away from me, taking..."

Another sentence Rodney didn't actually finish, but Quentin knew what, who, Rodney thought he was stealing away. It was bittersweet to him that Rodney thought that, but then he was fine letting him think that, he certainly wasn't going to help the man. For now he'd ignore that matter.

"I can't help it if I'm a better friend than you ever were."  
"Yes, yes you can. You're doing it to punish me for having this gene, something that I can't change. It's not my fault you didn't get it."  
"And it's not my fault either." Quentin countered.

Rodney stayed silent for a few moments, trying to think of what to say , staring at Quentin before he put his hands up.  
"Fine. It's nobody's fault, but it's not fair that you get everything I want" said Rodney.

To which Quentin harked back at him,"You have what I want most."  
Rodney rolled his eyes and Quentin presume he was thinking of bloody gene and fuss it caused. Though that wasn't what Quentin meant; there was an irony that they were actually talking about the same thing and Rodney didn't know.

"You don't mean that and we both know it."uttered Rodney, voice barely above a whisper.

That surprised him. It really shouldn't have. Rodney was enough like him he could still tell what he wanted, he'd had been stupid to try to fool him because they both had the same memories to a point not that long ago when he'd 'happened'. Didn't mean he had was going to back down any though.

"Yeah and we both know life's unfair, we've been there. so deal with it."  
"We've both been there so you should understand what's wrong with you doing this to me." reasoned Rodney.

Except he wasn't going to buy the logic of that, not when Rodney had so conveniently denied that previously, favouring his, Quentin's, continued grief.  
"I don't care what this is doing to you. I care about me." Quentin remarked bluntly.  
"That's obvious!" shouted an exasperated Rodney.

Then the lab was quiet, Rodney thinking and silent for a moment before stepping up in his face , trying to intimidate him.  
"But do you care about anyone else?"said Rodney, his voice steady as he asked Quentin.

There they were again, tiptoeing around what they really meant. He was sick of it, of the continued denial Rodney clung to.

"You mean her don't you?"  
"Yes, _her,_ because if you are going to hold her over me, like...like some kind of taunt and solely for that reason then I'll..."  
"You'll?" he questioned, mocking Rodney's threat.  
Rodney glowered at him but did nothing, straightening up after that.

"You really cant do this..." Rodney's voice was lower, an anger seething there.  
"You've said that before." he replied, totally unsympathetic to Rodney supposed misery.

All the man needed to do was get off his arse and see what was under his nose. Elizabeth was waiting for him to do something, say something and all the while Rodney held back out of fear. It was understandable, the rejection more painful than either could take; only Quentin had had to accept that because of 'Rodney' and for no other reason.

"Because I mean it. You really, really can't." was the weak reply, almost begging for mercy, not knowing it was something Quentin couldn't affect.

Here Rodney was making idle threats and pleading with him over something he'd never act upon. Rodney was pathetic carrying on this way. Quentin had had his life pulled out from under him from the start, expected to cope just fine, with Rodney's role barely changing. But Rodney broke down because little by little his life was being reclaimed from him and acted as if it was the cruelest thing in the world for Quentin _to do to him._

Right this second he just about hated Rodney for that. For getting everything and not realising; no appreciation for how good he had it.

Rodney wanted what he had, mistaking what exactly that was, and he'd get it by the bucket load. And so Quentin taunted him, stepping up to meet Rodney's stare, only an inch between their faces; with an anger mirrored identically, but unlike Rodney, enjoying the temporary spreading of the angst.

He sneered at Rodney's defiant expression and said, "Oh but I will, just watch me."  
At that the room exploded with them both talking at same time, a chorus of mocking and angry frustrated cries broken by the final scream of one of them.

"Because I love her, that's why!"

The surprise was evident, one that he'd said it in his hurt and the other blatantly happy that he'd caused that.  
Neither noticed the shadow of a person at the door, who'd heard enough but not enough to know the truth.

* * *

The pier was cold at night, the winds sweeping across with little to break them.  
The sea spray stung his eyes but he didn't let himself cry because he didn't work that way.

He fingered the gun in his hands, setting it down in his palm and trying to figure out what happened now.

For a short time he'd once again believed Elizabeth, that she hadn't turned against him, but Quentin had managed somehow to remedy that.  
He'd seen it coming and done nothing, zero, nada – just stood by watching like he had with the balcony.  
If anyone had failed it was him. Something he kept on doing lately.

He'd wanted to forget the argument – bury himself in work but then he'd remembered another thing he'd wanted to erase from history. The name on the report at the bottom of the stack, that had fluttered down as he shifted them to take them to the privacy of his quarters.  
The project had been reassigned by now but there was the name scratched out the same as the person. Brendan Gaul – with a line through.  
Brendan who'd given everything so he and Sheppard could live – because he'd thought they were the answer, the saviours of Atlantis who were to be kept alive at all costs.  
But the list of those he'd failed went on and on; Abrams, Wagner, Johnson, Dumais, Hayes, Peterson...

What good had he done any of them, saving the day but always a minute too late. Time enough to rescue himself and his friends but not them. When he'd said he didn't care why he survived, that wasn't true anymore. What was it about him that meant he was always spared?

Why did he, the self-proclaimed ass hole that he was, deserve to get off scot free?  
Or was this what this was?  
Quentin was determined to torture him and maybe that was a twisted type of payback for all of it.

His world was crumbling, the foundations chipped at until the whole thing fell down and there would eventually be nothing left but what Quentin could salvage for himself.

He thought of the words, of the phrase that had been bantered about – a trade off.  
How could Quentin say that, likes she was an object to be traded, something to assign to one of them?

He couldn't believe he'd be so insensitive and maybe the point was that Quentin wasn't him. Quentin was different from the moment he was created, atoms moving different directions. He might fool them all but Quentin was even more insensitive than he was, more arrogant and yet they didn't see through him. Rodney just hoped she would.

His thoughts of Quentin earlier came into focus; Quentin had had to change, adapt – that was their difference.

Rodney had been dangling legs off of the side into the water, not worried about if they were bitten off by creatures since he had come out wondering if his life was worth living.

Suddenly he retracted them, the fear clearly still there but laughing wryly at how stupid this was.

The man wasn't quite that vindictive, he hoped, that he'd want him dead but he didn't doubt that Quentin wouldn't lose much sleep if anything were to befall him. It was who could hang on longest, Quentin having the advantage of knowing who he used to be. That he, Rodney, hadn't changed much, except by Quentin's interference.

Now he could only make a guess as to how Quentin thought, but he would bet that Quentin had thought he'd pop his own clogs  
That would fit nicely with what Quentin wanted, what Quentin expected him to do – making both their lives less complicated.

He was tougher than this and wouldn't let Brendan have died for nothing.  
With that resolution he returned his sidearm to it's holster, glad he'd not been that selfish and stupid, grateful that he'd merely entertained the thought briefly before seeing logic.

And if Quentin couldn't manipulate him so easily that must mean Quentin couldn't know him as he obviously assumed he did. They had both changed, changed very little perhaps but more than enough to be out of sync, out of each's loop, only the major qualities unaffected. He wouldn't let Quentin win, he'd give him a taste of his own medicine and show him two could play that game.

He sighed, realising how much of a relief it was to have the gun safely tucked away, he never liked having to use one. It was a necessary evil, something for survival, he embraced it as a tool to work towards that but nothing more.

He heard footsteps. He had thought at night no one would see him there, which was why he'd chosen the spot. Out of view, by the side – to simply drop off into the ocean quietly without any mess.

It was hard to tell who it was, someone approaching but he had no clue who until she called out questioning, "Rodney?"  
He went back to watch the dark horizon.

"Pleased you can tell the difference."  
"Of course I can" she said.  
He smiled to himself, unhappily amused. Like he trusted that coming from her.

"What are you doing out here?"  
She sounded worried.

"Could ask her the same thing." was his droll reply.  
She teased him with " I asked you first."  
The conversation seemed normal there, slipping into a comfortable zone they'd established eons ago

But it wasn't like that anymore, was it?  
"Just thinking" he gave quietly.  
"Couldn't sleep?" she asked. When there was no answer she sat down next to him, "Me neither."

She touched his shoulder, a firm reassuring grip and his heart swelled with hope as he turned to look into her bright beautiful face. She battled to look at him, squinting against her wind swept hair that whipped up at her eyes.

He tore himself away from the torment. Reminding himself that she'd already made her choice.  
There was no mistaking her adoring look into Quentin's eyes and the fact she'd kissed him after that.

"I'm glad you put the gun away, I didn't quite know what to think when I saw you sitting here with it, but I trusted that you do the right thing. You always do."

He didn't look at her; he couldn't. He closed his eyes, wishing for this horrible dream to go away.  
She shouldn't have seen it, he should have never even considered it; never come down here, or got the gun out...

He felt her hand touch his shoulder again before her hand brushed past his neck, her hugging him to her side like a reversal of how things had been when they'd sat waiting outside by that grounding station.

She was trying to show she cared perhaps, some sort of friendly affection.  
He swallowed his regrets and looked to her, seeing her face laced with worry for him.  
Friends was good. If that was all he could have then he'd be happy at it and bear it as well as possible.

"Hungry?" he asked as he started to get up.  
She withdrew her arm as she felt him pull away.

It was a blatant excuse to leave the place but she didn't push the issue. Elizabeth had a tendency to know when to leave things alone.  
He offered her his hand, helping her up, stomach fluttering nervously at the contact of her as she braced herself against him as she stood.

She smiled at him, not letting go instantly.  
"Thank you." she said softly.

He thought it odd she would be the one saying that, as something he should have said to her instead but replied in kind.  
"No problem." he said genuinely. "Anyway, to the mess hall." he said, hand outstretched in the general direction, indicating she should go first.

Her eyebrow quirked up as she watched him in his usual demeanor, "Let me guess. MRE's again?"

* * *

It was one thing for her to distance herself but it hurt unimaginably to see them together, chummy once more. 

Something had changed on that balcony but he'd not know exactly what that would mean.  
Though that was a lie; he'd known already but he'd not accepted it entirely.  
There had been hope left where he saw now that there shouldn't be.

Quentin watched from the same balcony, seeing Elizabeth leaving the pier with Rodney. In that one encounter she'd shown more affection to Rodney than she ever had for him. She laughed at his jokes and chatted, finding time spent pleasant but she had always held back that little bit and since last night she was nearly neutral to him.

And still Rodney was oblivious, missing the unhappiness behind Elizabeth's eyes as the two left, the sadness at Rodney's apparent disinterest. Each saw the value of their friendship, hopeful for more one day or at least that it was better than nothing – better than what he had as Quentin; Elizabeth lost to him.

A few tears escaped as he stared at the damned spot the two had sat, where Rodney had sat originally on his own. It could have ended today, with just a little pain but Rodney hadn't followed through like he'd expected. He'd been close, like Quentin had surmised from how he had been after the argument, the fragile balance disrupted.

He'd been all too hopeful that that might happen, that Rodney would solve it for both of them but instead they carried on in this odd battle of wits where no one could win.

He knew he could do what Rodney couldn't, in theory but no, he didn't have the guts either. Not while there was a slim possibility life could yet improve.

They pair below disappeared through the door and he allowed himself to stand there for a moment, looking out to the tumultuous ocean. The waves crashed on the decking at places but the metal was durable, almost ever lasting and unaffected.

Their hope destroyed his – he knew there was no way she'd ever love him, not as she knew him -she could only love 'Rodney McKay'.

With that he walked out, disgusted with himself for being weak.

* * *


End file.
